3 Gifts - Part 3

Just hours before we got the call that H had gone into labor, Josh’s parents gave us some sweet little gifts for baby girl. Though we had no shortage of pink blankets and onesies from when Phoenix was little, they had thoughtfully picked out some new things for #2. I had eagerly unwrapped the little clothes to make sure they were washed and ready, but everything else was forgotten in the rush to leave for the hospital. When we came home with empty arms, those gifts didn’t really seem to have a place anymore.

Freed up by Josh’s parents to do whatever I wanted/needed, I decided to return them. So I found myself at Walmart with a gift card to spend … since the money was intended for grandchild gifts, it only made sense to use it on things we needed for Phoenix. After a few minutes, we had some socks, bibs and fairy wings in our cart and nothing left on the list. So we headed for the toy aisles.

I will just go ahead and own the fact that I am “that” parent … the one who is picky about what toys end up in our home.  I normally gravitate towards well-made toys that facilitate creativity, learning and motor skills. Plastics, characters and batteries aren’t part of my MO. And, while Phoenix really does enjoy the choices we make, she usually isn’t all that involved in picking out her playthings (yet).

While we perused the toy aisles, she made some comments here and there, but didn’t seem particularly drawn to anything. Until she saw that box of crappy, anatomically distorted ponies.

“You wanna hold the ponies!” she exclaimed (we are still working on pronouns).

I handed her the box, and she immediately began stroking their pink hair.

“She’s so beautiful!”

I wish that my video camera had been rolling in that moment. It was the sweetest display, and I’ve played it over in my mind many times to make sure I don’t forget it. This was exactly the kind of toy that I DON’T normally buy, but it gave me so much joy to get those ponies for her. It was a privilege to say yes to her. I might have even been more excited about this gift than she was.

And God instantly reminded me that it is also His joy to give gifts to his children.

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him?” – Matthew 7:9-10

I’ve had a hard time embracing that truth over the last year. I understand it cognitively, but it has been hard for my heart to get on board. I still don’t have the baby-gift I have begged to receive.

God, despite withholding our second child, has been relentless in working Matthew 7:9-10 into my soul theology. It started with the ponies, then a getaway with Josh, then a perfectly-timed free coffee, and on and on. But, like the ungrateful child I am, I have often sulked about His gift choices. Every morning, I have to choose to believe that he will answer my pleas for a child. And, each day, it is harder.

I wish that I had some gift-wrapped conclusion for this post – but I don’t.

All I have is a petition for your prayers. I need y’all to pick up my paralyzed faith on mat and carry it to Jesus. I know that my smallness of perspective is directly related to my understanding of God’s love. So pray that I experience His love more deeply, believe Him more fundamentally, and that I wait more patiently.

3 Gifts - Part 2

I know, I know ... this has been a long time coming.

Honestly, I hadn't written this post because these thoughts have been slow to brew in my heart, and because I knew it would hurt to write them down.
But I've ignored it long enough.

My senior year in college, I took a class called "Contemporary Christian Ethics Theory - Agape, Gift and Obligation." Much of the semester was devoted to exploring "the gift," and whether it can exist outside of economic exchange. For much of the semester, we mused with Derrida (whose name must be said in a French accent while shaking one's fist) about whether one can actually give a gift without expecting anything in return (even a "thanks") or receiving anything in return (even the warm-fuzzy feelings of having contributed to someone). He believed it was impossible to remove gifts from the horizon of economy, thus negating the term "gift" altogether.

We didn't get to give Hannah that necklace, but we did give her a gift. We gave her the gift of choice.

I can't imagine her hardship in the hours following the baby's birth. She was weighing options that not only impacted her directly, but that would forever impact that tiny new soul. We waited for 36 painstaking hours after the baby's birth because she had so much to consider.
But what if we had not been there? She wouldn't have had any terrifying decisions, right? Just the impending reality of motherhood. She would have held that little burrito-wrapped baby with no options but to embark on single-parenthood.
Because we were there, she got to choose motherhood. She got to say "I want to do this," instead of "I have to do this."
And that is a remarkable gift that we gave to both her and the baby. Alexandria has a mom who, with other viable options, decided to parent.

And this gift that we gave? I know for a fact that it blows Derrida and his aporias out of the water.
We received nothing in return and never will.
It came at a devastating cost. I am still unearthing new pains and still find myself punched in the gut with sorrow.
The knowledge of this given-gift doesn't serve me in any way ... if only it brought comfort.
And, though it was compulsory, I would give it again in a heartbeart.

At the end of the class, we concluded something that is so simply true: God has given us the perfect gift of Jesus. And this love-motivated, love-fulfilled gift came at great cost with no strings attached.

We gift-loved H because God first gift-loved us.